A Flower For You, Monsieur
by Ginger Anastase
Summary: Enjolras never really knew her but once he had kissed her forehead and watched her leave, he promised never to let go of that flower. Oneshot. Implied Enjolras/Eponine. Rated K . Enjoy!


"A flower for you, Monsieur," mumbled the bedraggled girl, twisting the stem of the flower between her fingertips, "It's nothing really, sir, but I would like you to have it. It may bring you luck."

She stretched out her arm, ignoring how the wind clattering through the windows was making the flower droop. Enjolras frowned at the gesture, quite unsure of who the girl was. He reached out warily and plucked the flower from her grip.

"Thank you, Mademoiselle. But I don't think luck will help me. I am beginning to think that whatever we do to rebel, it will not make much difference."

The girl shook her head, "Don't think like that, Monsieur! You must not let these men down. Have a little faith in yourself for they have faith in you."

Enjolras nodded and watched the girl disappear down the stairs of the café. He looked at the flower, admiring how the shine of candle light made the redness of the petals cast red shadows on his skin. It was a poppy, he believed.

He got up from his rickety seat and made to look out of the window of the second floor. The gloom of France made him wince. He hated the greyness and that was one of the reasons he was battling for change. The dreariness outside was a reminder of why he was doing this, of why he was being this man. Enjolras, fighter until the end, that's who he was. But still, sometimes he wished he wasn't so dedicated. It felt like a terrible weight on his shoulders, the lives of all his friends.

_They have faith in you_ the girl had said. He didn't doubt that but he doubted a lucky flower would change their fates if the fight for revolution turned into a bloodbath.

He dangled the flower outside the window, about to let it drown in a puddle on the ground.

"You don't plan to drop it, Monsieur?" called up a fatigued voice from below. He looked down to find the flower girl staring up at him with an apprehensive expression in her eyes. She was squinting against the rain that was beginning to fall, not bothering to shelter her hair or face. Enjolras noticed that she had a whole bunch of poppies in her hand and he wondered how far away from her slum she had gone to get them. His gaze flickered back to hers.

"Of course not, Mademoiselle," he promised, "I won't let go of it until we have won."

She grinned wearily, "I like the way you talk, Monsieur."

He returned her smile and watched as Grantaire appeared from the doorway beneath him. The girl rushed to him and presented him with a flower, muttering the same things about luck that she had said to Enjolras. Grantaire smiled sloppily, drunk as normal, and carefully placed the flower into his breast pocket. He walked away and the girl turned to leave.

"What is your name, Mademoiselle?" he called, hoping that his voice was dodging the raindrops that separated them.

The girl looked back over her shoulder. She was shivering. "My name is Eponine. And yours?"

"I am Enjolras."

She bit her lip. "You won't remember me in a few days."

"I'm sure I will," he replied.

Eponine turned fully to face him again. "I wouldn't worry about it," she mumbled, "You'll forget soon enough. I have knack for disappearing."

She shrugged. "I know my way around."

Enjolras grimaced as she shuddered more violently. "Wait there!" he shouted.

Eponine obliged, trembling under the blank sky and cursing the little fall of rain that was saturating her skin. Enjolras appeared on the ground floor of the café and he braved the harsh outside. He shielded his head with a blanket he was carrying and made his way through the puddles to join Eponine in the road.

"Have this, Eponine," he said offering her the blanket. She shook her head but Enjolras tossed it to her anyway.

"You'll catch your death, Mademoiselle."

She laughed bitterly, "I am already dead, sir, can you not see?"

Enjolras scoffed, "You do not look dead to me. Why would you say that?"

Eponine closed her eyes. "I have nothing to live for. So I am dead."

He sighed and pitied her. He knew somehow that she wouldn't like to be pitied but he did all the same. She bowed her head as if defeated and made to run away but Enjolras caught her arm, flinching at her icy skin.

"You're cold," he stated, looking at her unnaturally slim figure, "And thin."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some money, expecting her eyes to start glowing at the thought of a little wealth.

"Buy some food."

She gazed up at him, "No, I don't want your money, sir."

He let his hand close back around the note and he looked at her quizzically.

"Then what do you want?"

She looked longingly at the café, watching the other students, drinking, through the window.

"You know him," she whispered.

Enjolras nodded even though he had no idea who she was talking about.

"Well…Mademoiselle, whoever you want is a fool to not want you back."

She coughed and smiled, rainwater dripping off her lashes. "Thank you, Monsieur."

Eponine ran then. Enjolras didn't try to stop her that time.

He jogged back across to the café but didn't close the door before a sorrowful and feather-light voice called back to him.

"I will meet you at the barricade, Monsieur Enjolras!"

* * *

It was raining again when Enjolras last saw Eponine. The raindrops were dripping off her eyelashes in the same way and her voice was still full of sorrow when she told Marius to stop fretting. This time, though, she was dying. Enjolras was quite sure that she had been dying in a way when he first saw her but the bullet wound to her chest brought a certain finality to the moment. Everyone stood by her deathbed as if the battle had stopped. Little Gavroche hid his face into Courfeyrac's leg to mask his tears.

"I don't feel any pain," she whispered, "A little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now."

Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose, hating every word that meant such a young girl was loosing her life by the second.

"Will you get me Enjolras?" she asked weakly. Marius frowned but nodded and dragged Enjolras by the arm to hold her.

Enjolras blinked in confusion. "Why would you want me?" he asked.

She winced in pain. "You gave me hope when hope was gone. I am thankful for that."

Enjolras laughed weakly, "You're welcome, Eponine."

She looked at the first buttonhole in his jacket where the lucky poppy was pinned. "You kept my flower."

"Yes," he replied, "I promised, didn't I?"

"Yes you did," she took a deep breath, "People don't tend to keep their promises to me. It can be a keepsake, to remember me by."

He nodded sadly. She began to drift, her eyes kept closing slowly.

He shook his arms to jostle her awake. She lazily reopened her dimming brown eyes.

"You kept your promise so I must ask that you'll keep this one," she murmured so Enjolras could barely hear.

"What is it?" he croaked, his throat getting uncommonly tight.

Eponine lifted her head as much as she was able to whisper in his ear.

"Promise to kiss me on the forehead when I'm dead. I shall feel it."

Enjolras gulped, swallowing the emotion and, most importantly, the tears.

"I promise".

He tried to ignore the way she slumped when she closed her eyes again. He carried on talking to her as if she was there. He shook her again and again.

"Let her go, Enjolras," Gavroche said softly as he turned his face to look upon the sorrowful scene.

Enjolras nodded and lightly kissed her forehead, as he promised he would.

He let her go and Courfeyrac carried her away, his lip trembling.

"Why did she ask for you?" asked Marius hoarsely.

"I don't know," he replied, "But I wish she hadn't made me see her die."

He slunk back to the barricade, desperately trying not to look towards Courfeyrac as he laid Eponine next to the other casualties.

With the flower girl gone, Enjolras returned to being dedicated and courageous but anyone who looked closely could see that he was clutching a dishevelled poppy tightly in his hand as he fought for freedom.

**Hi there :D I hope you enjoyed my oneshot, I love Enjolras/Eponine! I think Enjolras was bit OOC but I tried to make him emotional but not completely out of character. Anyway, tell me what you think of this, even if you didn't like it.**

**Disclaimer: Any of the lines from the musical, film or book Les Misérables that I've used in this fanfiction aren't mine! I don't own Les Misérables no matter how much I'd like to! :D **


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